


The Disintegration of Sirius Black.

by iamisaac



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3103601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamisaac/pseuds/iamisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. During the First War, Sirius receives a letter. Acting upon it, he finds himself in the clutches of Death Eaters Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, and Severus Snape...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Disintegration of Sirius Black.

**Harry Potter: Bella/Sirius, Severus/Sirius, Rodolphus/Bella/Sirius, Rodolphus/Bella**  
**Title:** The Disintegration of Sirius Black.  
**Quote:** "Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust." -- Marquis De Sade  
**Characters/Pairings:** Bella/Sirius, Severus/Sirius, Rodolphus/Bella/Sirius, Rodolphus/Bella  
**Rating:** NC17  
**Warnings:** Rape, non-con, torture, mental and physical cruelty, unremitting depressingness.  
**Disclaimer:** Not my characters. No money being made.  
**Word Count** : around 4000  
**Summary:** AU. During the First War, Sirius receives a letter. Acting upon it, he finds himself in the clutches of Death Eaters Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, and Severus Snape...  
**Author's Notes** : A massive amount of thanks to my betas. You know who you are.  


Sirius never knows who will come. In the early days, he spends the waiting hours cursing himself for being stupid enough (reckless enough, arrogant enough) to be caught.

_**Quick, it’s urgent.** Such a brief note. It didn't occur to him that it might not be James’s writing. It looked like his writing, and it looked like his brevity. Prongs never bothered writing detailed missives, at least not to Sirius. Possibly Lily would have known better. Without giving it further thought, Sirius slung a leg across his motorbike and made for the skies._

The door swings open, and Sirius has his fists clenched even before he sees who it is. Bella notices immediately, damn her, and laughs.

“Oh, sweetie, are you thinking of fighting your way out Muggle-style?”

Sirius grunts, not bothering with a real response. There’s no way on earth, of course, he’s getting out of this one, but just landing a punch on his cousin might give him a little self-respect back. Bella strolls over, standing a hairsbreadth out of reach. Sirius mutters a curse at the magic ties that prevent him from moving more than a pace in any direction.

“My tough cousin doesn’t look so tough now, no?” Sirius ignores her. “What, not even one word for me today?”

“Two. Fuck off.”

“You would be wiser to be nice to me, sweetheart,” she says cooingly. “You are, after all, in my power.”

Sirius knows it is true, but can’t bring himself to do anything except spit venom at Bellatrix.

“You’re scum. I wouldn’t pass the time of day with scum if I could help it. And I’m not going to play nice just for an evil bitch like you.”

“No?”

Bella flicks her wand, and Sirius finds himself on his knees.

“No,” he hisses back. “Over my fucking dead body.”

She laughs.

“Oh, I don’t think any of us are interested in fucking a dead body.” She considers for a second, head tilted to one side, birdlike. “Rodolphus, maybe. Remind me to ask him. No, darling, we’re going to keep you alive for our pleasure.”

“I hope you choke on it.”

“I’m sure you do,” she nods, and is gone.

_Always suspect a trick. The first damn rule for wartime. Never trust anyone. But this wasn't anyone, it was James, and if Sirius couldn’t trust James then nothing mattered anyway._

_  
Except it hadn’t been James after all._

He looks into the eyes of Severus Snape and wishes he’d killed him when they’d still been at school. Yes, he’d have been in fuckloads of trouble, but it would have been nothing to this. Snape’s trademark sneer is present, and Sirius wants to kick it off his snivelling face. When he thinks about what he’d like to do to Snape, he gets a glimpse into the pleasure that Snivellus is enjoying now.

“You can’t touch me,” Snape whispers. “I have you here, and I can do anything I like to you, and there’s nothing you can do about it, Black.”

“No?” Snivellus is, of course, right, but Sirius isn’t going to admit he knows it.

“There is nothing you can do.” The sneer creases up at the corners and becomes a smile. “Try, Black. Why don’t you try and escape, why don’t you try and attack me?” Sirius says nothing. “You don’t, because you can’t. It hurts, doesn’t it, knowing you’re in my power?”

“Whatever,” Sirius says, a little too late. He supposes it’s better than ‘yes’.

“So I’m not going to do anything now,” Snape says. “I’m just going to let you wait here and wonder...”

_Ambushed. Bloody ambushed. He hadn’t even thought to make the bike invisible. He was only going to James’s house, and he knew the route backwards._

  
_“Hang on, Jamie, I’m coming,” he murmured, landing the bike._

  
_“Oh good,” said a familiar voice, and Sirius looked into the face of his newly married cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. She pouted a little. “Except – oops! – I’m not Jamie, am I, my sweet?”_

The next time Snape visits, he doesn’t bother with conversation. As soon as he is in the room, Sirius is hit by a string of hexes. No wand to protect himself, and whatever the magical barrier around Sirius is, it seems to stop any wandless magic. He foams and flails, but Snivellus is out before he can say a word, letting Bella in in his place. She stands and looks at Sirius for a full minute, then spits full in his face.

“Bitch,” Sirius swears.

She giggles happily, sends a tickling charm at him, and leaves. The charm takes five hours to wear off, at which point Sirius has used his entire repertoire of bad language more than once.

_Sirius looked at his cousin. He could take her any time. Did she really think she was going to stop him getting to Prongs?_

  
_“Out of my way,” he said, brushing past her. He hadn’t time for this now. If James said it was urgent, he meant it._

  
_“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Bella softly._

Rodolphus looks as though he is thinking about something else as he raises his wand – perhaps the increase in the price of Firewhiskey thanks to the tax hike, or what he’s going to eat for dinner tonight. At least, Sirius thinks, the other two show some emotion. Enjoyment, for Bellatrix; hatred, for Snape. Lestrange’s indifference is almost more of an insult: he doesn’t _care_ and yet he comes here to torture Sirius anyway. Sirius averts his gaze from the man and looks at Bella. Her excitement is more evident than ever; there is a faint flush on her cheeks and her breathing is fast.

“Crucio,” says Lestrange; and Sirius stops worrying about anything except himself. His skin is on fire. He can feel sweat sliding all over him as he pants in an effort to keep himself from screaming. He doesn’t notice Bella moving closer until he feels her hands on him.

“Oh, lovely,” she says to Rodolphus, as Sirius shakes and sweats in her grasp. “Just lovely.” Her lips are on Sirius’s, and he is groaning into her mouth with the pain. Bella is humming with pleasure, rubbing her body up against Sirius. “Oh yes,” she purrs. “Oh, I could get to like you like this, Sirry.”

And despite it, despite the agonising pain that should make him immune to anything else, Sirius finds himself growing hard as she touches him with her knowing, practised hands, using every trick to arouse a man he's even known (and some he didn't know before). His attempts at silence are over, and he is taking sobbing gasps of breath that, when they are let out, become moans. Bella is all over him; he registers faintly that he’s never seen her look so aroused, and that it suits her. She is soft and gentle against his body as her husband tortures him. What kind of twisted woman is she? And Rodolphus lowers his wand, and Sirius is still shuddering with reaction, and as Bella gives him one last sweet kiss before leaving, the other thought occurs.

What sort of twisted man is he to get hard like this?

_”Get out of the way Bella,” he said._

“But you’ve come to meet me,” she pouted. Sirius raised his wand, and Bella opened her eyes wide. “Oh, did I sign the wrong name? Silly me!” 

  
“What the fuck...?” 

  
The instinctive hex was halfway out of his mouth when he felt a hand clasp around his wand arm. 

  
“That’s my wife. If she needs... correction... I prefer to do it myself.” 

The first time Snape fucks him, Sirius finds himself shaking and groaning from the pain. Snivellus doesn’t bother with any of the usual preliminaries but has his cock nudging Sirius’s hole without warning, after one spell has stripped him naked and another thrust him onto all fours. There’s no room - _surely_ there’s no room in there; and Sirius is burning inside whilst a layer of cold, clammy, sweat covers his neck and back.

“Fuck,” he yells as Snape thrusts in deeper.

“Precisely;” a slightly breathless answer from Snape. “This is what you’ve come to, _Sirius_ : being my whore.”

The use of his first name is an intentional insult, Snape claiming possession of Sirius, of everything about him. His name is no longer sacred to those who know or like him; even the likes of Severus Snape can use it with impunity.

Sirius’s fingernails scrabble at the floor as he tries to stop himself screaming. He can see, vaguely, that they are bleeding, leaving a trail of red across the grey stone. He can’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the excruciating pain of being ripped in half by Snape. Snape comes quickly, and after a moment to catch his breath, he leaves. Sirius is naked, alone, covered in blood and semen.

How did it come to this?

  


_Shit, Sirius thought, but still he wasn’t scared. Okay, he’d have to do a quick Disapparation, and it was a pity about his bike, but it’d have to be a casualty of war. He shook Rodolphus Lestrange off, but just as he thought he’d made it, the hex hit him. Petrificus Totalus; the total body bind.  
He looked up into the sour milk face of Snape, and realised he’d underestimated the opposition._

He is still lying prone on the floor, trying to recover from the violation, when Bella enters. She smiles down at him as he scrambles to sitting.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, sweetie.”

There’s no answer, really. Bella comes and sits beside him, leaning in to lick the mixed fluids from his body. The blood has begun to crust over, but it leaks onto her tongue and she shuts her eyes with an expression of ecstasy. Sirius, with an effort, raises his arm and slaps her with the back of his hand.

“Get off, bitch.”

He realises at once that it was a bad move. She isn’t angered by the slap, but aroused. Her hands and her mouth are all over Sirius, and he crumples back to lying, unnerved by the quick response. As her mouth closes around his cock, her dark hair shadowing her face from him, he bucks instinctively into her warmth, and loathes himself for it. This is his cousin, this is Bella, whom he hates; but her gentleness is so welcome after the pain and humiliation that he finds a tear sliding down his face.

He is on the point of coming when she stops, kneeling up and looking at his face.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” she murmurs. “Are you going to beg me to go on, or shall I stop?”

Sirius turns away from her, burying his face in the floor. Bella has powerful magic, and he can feel himself succumbing; feel his lips shaping the plea. He won’t do it. He won’t give her that satisfaction. It seems as if he said the last line aloud, for she laughs.

“Not yet. But you will, sweetie, you will.”

She leaves him naked when she goes.

_Sirius came to, and only then realised that he must have been rendered unconscious. Rather to his surprise, he was not tied down in any way. Their first mistake, perhaps? The door, no doubt, would be locked, but it would be foolish not to try it. Sirius took two paces towards it, and found himself flung backwards, hard, against the wall._

He doesn’t see Snape again for days after the violation. Bella and Rodolphus come, sometimes separately, other times together. Rodolphus is cold and uncaring; Bella, warm and vicious. Sirius is not sure which of them he hates the most. He realises, on one occasion when he sees them together, that it is not only Bella who is aroused by his state. Rodolphus gains equal pleasure from watching his sadistic wife torment Sirius. A well matched couple, in fact. Snape called him a whore; when Rodolphus and Bella play their games together, Sirius thinks that he is more a sex toy.

At least a whore is human.

 _Magical bonds. Of course, a pure-blood obsessive like Bella wouldn’t have used Muggle devices. Sirius swore quietly. What about his Animagus form? Could he, perhaps, trick the bonds that way? He shut his eyes for a second to prepare himself, as he always did. Then..._  
Nothing. Bella was no fool.  
Sirius leaned against the wall and thought again.

He tries not to flinch when Snape enters the room. Physically, his body has more or less healed from the fucking. Mentally... Sirius despises himself but cannot forget, cannot stop _dreaming_ of that possession. He forces himself to meet Snape’s eyes, but there is a tremor he can’t disguise in his fingers.

“You don’t see pleased to see me, Black.”

Sirius finds that he’s pathetically grateful for the use of his surname. It makes them... not equals, when all the balance of power is with Snape, but at least acknowledged enemies.

“Aren’t you bored of this game yet?” he asks desperately.

For one second, he thinks Snape might be considering the question. Then...

“No,” Snape says flatly, looking him up and down. “You’re not broken yet. But you will be.” He turns away and begins to open the door. “I’m going to see you broken, Black.”

For the first time, Sirius begins to wonder if he’s right.

_Days. Hours. Minutes. There were endless minutes in an hour, endless hours in a day. There was a small amount of artificial light from the wall sconces, but no light penetrated from outside. For all Sirius knew, it might have been any time of day. Midnight, midday, somewhere in between.  
A couple of times he forgot the restrictions and attempted to pace, hitting the boundaries and being thrown back. Not good for the ego. The rest of the time he stood, or sat, or lay, and waited for something to happen._

Sirius realises that he is actively waiting for the next person to visit him. The fact that they come to torture, fuck, or otherwise humiliate him is seemingly less important than the fact that they come. Sometimes any company is better than none. He is never sure who he hopes to see, except that whichever face it is, he wishes it was someone else’s.

This time, it is Rodolphus. He opens the door and comes in, leaning against the wall opposite to Sirius and saying nothing. He gazes dispassionately at Sirius’s body, and Sirius has a crazy desire to cover himself, protect his modesty. Crazy, when Rodolphus has seen it all before. But there is something disturbing in this silent analysis.

“Well,” Sirius says, to be saying something. “What’s the diagnosis?”

Rodolphus ignores him and continues staring. Then, almost as an afterthought, he aims his wand at Sirius.

“Crucio,” he says. Sirius doubles up with pain, and prays that he won’t vomit. Then, as idly as he started, Rodolphus stops, and says one more sentence before leaving, apparently to himself. “I must keep in practise,” he murmurs.

_Sirius spent more time than he cared to think about discovering the very edges of his invisible prison, until he knew the boundaries by instinct. Two metres by two metres: the world had shrunk to that size. He examined the stone wall behind him until he knew every break, every chip, every tiny irregularity. It became, in some twisted way, home._

Snape comes again. To _come_ again. It’s not such a shock this time: Sirius is almost ready for the pain. But Snape has him on his back, forcing his legs up as he thrusts inside him. It feels more... more personal that way. There is no chance of Sirius pretending this is something else; that Snape is someone else. He can see that hated face above him. When he closes his eyes, Snape pauses, and waits for him to open them again. Unremitting. Detached. Cold. The hatred seems to have dissipated, and that is worse – as if Snape considers him too lowly to loathe. Too much of a nobody to dislike.

“Snivellus,” Sirius gasps, hoping for a reaction.

Snape continues as if he has never spoken.

_It faded into one long day. Sirius began to wonder how long he’d been there. It might have been weeks, months, maybe years. It seemed crazy to think of any other life. Prongs, Moony, Wormtail... they were like a dream, or something that had happened in a different lifetime. Sirius found himself repeating the names on the tapestry of the House of Black – anything to remind him of who he was. Sirius. Sirius Black, renegade son and Gryffindor hero. It all seemed like someone else._

The kindness kills him.

After surviving assault after assault; after knowing that Rodolphus is willing to torture _just as an exercise_ , it is compassion that breaks him.

Not any kindness. That of Severus Snape.

Sirius looks up resignedly when the door pushes open. Almost, it doesn’t matter who it is. Almost, it is better that they come than if they didn’t. Almost... almost, he wants to fall at the feet of his visitor and tell them how grateful he is for any fragment of their time they are willing to give him.

“Sirius.” And Snape’s voice is not cruel, but gentle.

Sirius has collapsed onto his knees, only just able to prevent himself sobbing. He bows his head as an acknowledgement. Words will not come.

“I brought food.”

They have fed Sirius during his incarceration, but rarely. Bella’s favourite food game is to wander into the room, eating cake or drinking champagne. Rodolphus likes to leave the food just the wrong side of Sirius’s boundaries, so he can see it, can **smell** it, but cannot touch it. Snape has never bothered bringing him food before. Sirius is torn between hope, and fear that this is just another cruel trick. He raises his head hesitantly.

Snape brings bread, cheese and water. A veritable feast. Sirius waits to be teased, but instead his captor brings it over and places it beside him. Once upon a time, Sirius might have been too proud to take from Severus Snape, but that time is long past. He grabs at the food with desperate, shaking hands, stuffing it into his mouth in enormous chunks. Snape stands and watches, and when he has finished Sirius looks up.

“Thank you.” Sirius’s voice trembles with gratitude.

When Snape leaves, Sirius turns over onto his front, his forehead against the stone floor, and cries.

_Snape. Bella. Rodolphus. The world spun around those three people. When Sirius was awake, his time was full of waiting and pain. When he slept, he dreamt the same things (the same people) over and again. Snape. Bella. Rodolphus. Pain and waiting, and arousal that was worse than pain or waiting. He woke with an erection after dreaming of Bella, and despised himself._

Bella and Rodolphus are the next people he sees. Sirius is slumped against the wall when they come in, and he makes no effort to move. Earlier, he knows, he would have stood in an attempt at bravado. Now, it seems wasted effort. He slouches and waits.

Bella casts a perfunctory glance at Sirius, but it is clear her attention is focused elsewhere – on her husband. Rodolphus seems as disinterested as always, but raises his wand leisurely. Sirius knows what is coming before the spell is cast.

“Crucio.”

Bella drops to her knees and for half a bewildered second Sirius thinks that the curse has been sent at her. Then the pain hits, and he stops thinking at all. Bella, he can see through tear-wet eyes, has crawled round in front of Rodolphus. Sirius watches as she moves his robes aside and lifts her mouth to her husband’s cock, an expression of ecstasy on her face. Sirius himself has his fingers clenched against his legs, sweat soaking him as he rocks in agony. The creator of his pain is distracted; the Cruciatus is half-lifted several times as Rodolphus closes his eyes in the pleasure he is gaining from Bella. Each time, however, Bella pauses until she can hear Sirius groan: the louder his cries, the more enthusiastically she fellates her partner.

By the time Rodolphus comes, Sirius is screaming.

_Sirius found himself praying to gods he didn’t believe in. To start with, he prayed for freedom, for someone to rescue him. As time passed, he prayed simply for oblivion. Death or insanity: whichever came first. In the end, it was just one word – “please” – over and over again._

He looks up and sees Snape. He looks up and sees salvation.

“Oh God,” he says, hoarsely; and it is not blasphemy.

Severus pulls Sirius to his feet and for a long moment holds him in his arms. Sirius’s head bows forward onto the other man’s shoulder; he clings to him as his only hope. Severus kisses his neck, an action which holds none of Bella’s malice, none of Snape’s own earlier cruelty. Then the two men lie side by side on the floor, and it is Sirius who cannot release his captor, who holds and begs him to stay.

“Please,” he supplicates, as in his prayers. (Severus is the only god who has arrived.) “Please.”

Snape touches his body, making it respond. Sirius cries and pleads and cries some more as Severus runs gentle hands over him. He promises anything - _anything_ \- if Severus will please not stop, please not leave him. Snape brushes his lips against Sirius’s, runs his tongue against the bearded jawline. Sirius grabs at him, tugging his robes, his fingers grasping desperately at his nemesis.

“Shh,” says Snape, and makes love to him on the cold stone of the dungeon.

The pleasure is more intense than anything Sirius has felt before; more devastating than any number of curses or hate. He bucks beneath Severus, crying out his ecstasy in the prison where he has wept so many times with pain. He dissolves within himself, becoming nothing, no one, except what Severus makes him. They lie together, afterwards; and the man that Sirius once thought he was has vanished.

“I’m broken,” whispers Sirius; yet somehow he is not afraid.

Snape looks at him with dark unfathomable eyes.

“I know,” he says.


End file.
